Allure
by icyboots
Summary: A kiss shouldn't have been so unnaturally sweet. Aerith/Tifa. AU. Oneshot.


i'm ashamed and appalled at myself for still not writing for aerti, so here's a short thing for the season.

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><p><strong>Allure<strong>

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><p>Tifa couldn't determine why, but the moment a woman carrying a flower-basket entered her bar, she immediately noticed her.<p>

Maybe it was the flowers — because who went to a bar while carrying them along? — or simply her clothes, so bright and colorful between black and white and grey.

That didn't reason why she found her gaze returning to her as the night went on.

Soon enough, it was closing-time, and the woman — who was quietly sitting on her chosen stool and sipping her drink so far — was still there, seemingly well into intoxication.

There was also a man who looked at the woman with an unsettling leer, standing the moment she stood.

Tifa found the words getting out before she could even think twice about them. "Do you live near by?"

The woman turned to look at her at that, for the first time acknowledging her existence other than being the one who handed out drinks and stopped bar-fights. "Yes…" she trailed off, frowning in thought. "I think."

"Do you want me to walk you home, then?" It was something Tifa usually did if she saw need to it this late into the night; drunk people were so easy to take advantage of, after all.

"Alright." She smiled, a bit woozy but still so endearingly earnest. "Thank you."

Tifa smiled back, and then smirking upon seeing the sheer disappointment in the man's eyes as she kicked him out of the bar.

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><p>"Thank you again for your help…?"<p>

"Tifa." She guessed the woman was sobering up; her pace beside her was getting slowly steadier. "And you shouldn't thank me for doing the decent thing."

"I suppose you're right." Tifa could detect the hint of an accent, but not one she was familiar with. Which was strange now that she thought about it; she was living in _Midgar_. "I'm Aerith."

"That's a lovely name…" She titled her head in confusion when saw that Aerith stopped abruptly. _We're not at her home already, are we? This is just an alleyway._ "What's wrong?"

"Nothing really, I'm just thinking." And then Aerith was standing close — so, so _close,_ and Tifa wondered why she didn't mind it. She could smell her perfume and if she looked down… "You're not from here, are you, Tifa?"

Hearing her name spilling from Aerith's lips shouldn't have made her shiver, shouldn't have made her want to close the non-existent distance between them even more. "I'm from Nibelheim," Tifa answered, trying to gather her scattered thoughts, and failing miserably when she saw that Aerith was following her mouth's movement with her too deep green eyes. "It's… it's a small town that's way too—"

A kiss shouldn't have been so unnaturally sweet, so unbelievably _consuming_, but it _was_ and Tifa couldn't breathe despite its chasteness compared to the other kisses she received along the years. She found her hands pulling Aerith closer, deepening the kiss as if she was trying to understand what attracted her so much to this woman.

Aerith sighed in pleasure before pulling away from her to caress her face, her eyes incredibly lidded and fanning her already burning desire. "You're so beautiful, Tifa."

In her daze, Tifa only saw the hint of a fang and felt the most piercing pain before shuddering from pure, maddening pleasure.

"So, so beautiful…" was the last thing she heard.

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><p>Catching a lone Vampire wasn't supposed to be so difficult.<p>

"So another one, huh?"

But it was.

Tseng willed his all not to frown as he saw the Flower Girl's latest victim, the newest addition to a rather long list.

"You think she's getting sloppy?" Reno, his second-in-command asked. "This one is still alive and kicking. Rude should tell you all about that. He's still unconscious, though."

"No," Tseng answered, remembering how they found the victim, Tifa Lockhart, unconscious in an abandoned alley, laid out so thoughtfully with a yellow flower — the kind that was found tossed carelessly next to the Flower Girl's bleeding victims' bodies — carefully tucked behind her ear.

"She's getting soft."


End file.
